


Ghastly Serenade

by The_Blonde_and_the_Brunette



Series: Red Dead Imagines [7]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Ghastly Serenade, He's hot, I ain't afraid of no ghosts, Roanoke Ridge, but also scary as hell, gender neutral reader, its implied that it could be a thing ok, like if you were just meeting Arthur, shit wait I was joking, the relationship is in its baby stage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 08:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Blonde_and_the_Brunette/pseuds/The_Blonde_and_the_Brunette
Summary: Who you gonna call when you're stuck out in Roanoke Ridge in the middle of the night with only an Arthur to cuddle? That's right, no one.  Cuz you got Arthur.





	Ghastly Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> oops my hand slipped...

Roanoke Ridge was never a pleasant place to be, even more so at night. The eery forest, prone to fog and and mist thanks to the river and waterfall, was filled with strange noises and lights, whispers and weird unidentifiable animal noises.The locals were imbred and delusional, if mostly harmless to the occasional outsider, but the gang that roamed these haunted hills were the very epitome of vindictiveness and viciousness.Hell, They were the main reason the forest and ridge were haunted in the first place.

Needless to say, it was the last place you wanted to be stuck in, forced to camp under the trees north of Annesburg because the road flooded south of town.The campfire, though roaring, did little to dispel the gloom that pressed up against the edge of the light, as if the forest was biding its time until it could swallow the source of comfort whole and blot it out. 

You shivered, scooted closer to the fire, and tried not flinch at every scrape and snuffle behind you, praying each sound was just a trick of the night.

“You cold?”

You glanced through the fire at Arthur, meeting his eyes before dropping your gaze back to the fire.“No.” You rubbed your palms up and down your bare forearms, trying vainly to get the fine hair there to lay flat. 

A deep sigh, a shake of the head, and a huff of amusement were the answer to your claim.Your eyes snapped back up at the shuffle of feet.

Arthur had unbuckled his thick traveling cloak, revealing the thick bear fur lining the inside, and gestured with a jerk of his chin while holding it away from his body.You barely hesitated before scooting around the fire, pausing when you got near to eye him up and down, uncertain of what he wanted.

“I ain’t gonna bite, get in here.”His gruff voice, usually barking orders and delivering scathing rebukes, had softened to a rumble.His chin raised, far arm raising to balance his elbow on his knee while holding the edge of the coat.He waited, a little impatiently.

His movements had created a tiny cave of body and coat, and with one more quick glance to his face to gage his mood, you shifted closer and turned to give him your back, a tad disbelieving that Arthur Morgan would offer to share body heat with the newest member of the gang, someone he had barely spoken a handful of words to before Dutch had put them on this mission.

He was a big man, radiated warmth, but you still jumped when his arm reached out and pulled you further into his space, forcing you practically flushed against him as he wrapped the coat back around you two.While there was still a small opening at the front, it was almost stifling warm and the bear pelt sinfully soft, and you relaxed, burrowing your cheek against the thicker ridge of fur at the edge of the coat.

Arthur huffed behind you, waited a moment, then: “Didn’t think you’d be so jumpy.” 

You told yourself it was the pop of a log breaking in the fire that made you start slightly, not the hot breath that curled around the nape of your neck or the deep voice in your ear.You felt completely surrounded by him, his barrel chest brushing against your shoulders with every breath, his thighs a line of warmth on either side of your hips. It didn’t help at all that he was probably the most attractive man you had ever met, even if his handsomeness was a little unconventional.

“I don’t like this forest.” Was all you said, head twisting around to check that the trees hadn’t moved while you let your guard down.

“It ain’t that bad.” A crack caused both your heads to turn to the right, and you pushed back into Arthur, suddenly needing just a little more assurance that Murphy Brood weren’t going to jump out from behind a tree and murder you to death.

Silence for a moment, and then Arthur shifted behind you, and you realized belatedly that his hand had dropped down to his gun.It rose back up to rest on his leg again, and you found a small chuckle stuck in your throat.You tried to beat it down, but it finally escaped in a hiccuping snort. 

You felt Arthur lean forward a bit, saw his chin out of the corner of your eye.“Somethin funny?” His tone wasn’t hard, you had heard it utter those same words in a much deadlier tone, but you still hurried to explain.

“You, reachin for your gun to fight off ghosts.” You managed not to chuckle again, and brought your knees up close to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.The tips of your shoes still stuck out the safety of the coat, but if you shuffled any further backwards you’d be in Arthur’s lap.

Now it was his turn to snort.“I’ve seen a bunch of strange things, but I ain’t ever seen a ghost.” Another crack in the forest, and you both tensed.After a moment, Arthur grunted again, hand coming up to ruffle your hair and push you against his arm. 

“Try and get some sleep, I’ll take first watch.”

Your muffled reply was lost in the bear pelt, but you closed your eyes and tried to relax, surprised at how easy it was to find sleep in the arms of a man you barely knew.

Everything about Arthur was a conundrum.When you had joined the gang four months ago, he had been the distant, angry sounding bear of a man that arrived early in the morning and departed at odd hours; scouting, hunting, robbing killing, anything that needed doing.You had stayed out of his way, jumped when you turned and found him too near, had always vacated the sitting area when he would plop down just a little too close.

While he had never said a mean word even in passing to you, you had seen him tear into Bill, Uncle, hell even John. The wit hidden in his tongue during these exchanges always struck you as odd given his portrayal of the big, bad, stupid enforcer he showed the outside world. 

But then slowly, you started to see the kindness in him as well.

Whenever he approached the women of the camp, you heard his soft words and laughter, and their easy banter.Little Jack went out of his way to greet him when he was in camp, running up for a hug or to show him something interesting.The horses all raised their heads and nickered at his approach, ears pricked forward as though expecting a treat.It was those times that you saw under the hard exterior, to the softness he hid, and it was the only time you would admit he was handsome.

Though you no longer fled in his presence, you didn’t seek him out or purposefully put yourself in his way either.He was still too big of a man, too strong and too angry, even if he was handsome under all that gruff.He set you on edge, and though it was no longer in fear, old habits died hard. 

Now though, wrapped up in his coat with his deep, even breaths behind you, you realized your defenses were crashing down, and there would be no avoiding him after this.

You woke, startled, some time later, breath heaving out of your chest at some unknown terror.The horses were stomping in fear, Arthur’s warhorse practically tearing out the stake that his master had driven into the ground to keep them on a line when they set up camp.The thick coat still hung from your shoulders, but Arthur’s heat was no longer pressed against your back.Instead you felt hard earth under your puddle of limbs in the too big coat. Your head popped up, alarmed at the apparent abandonment, and swallowed painfully as you looked for him. 

The fire had sunken down a little, but enough light still glowed to show Arthur standing at the edge, turned slightly away from you to stare into the woods.His eyes flickered back when you shifted, and he held up a hand, face still and mouth pressed into a thin line.You realized with a start that he had drawn his revolver, the harsh click of the hammer loud in the still dark.

A whisper, your heart bounded up in your throat at the soft sound.Arthur shifted to face the direction it came from, hips and shoulders moving so he presented a smaller target, gun hanging easy at the side of his hip.

An answering whisper, this time almost a soft sigh, coming from the other direction, had you twisting in the coat to face it, vainly trying to scoot away.Arthur tensed, but stayed facing the first threat, though he clicked his tongue softly to get your attention.When you glanced at him, he jerked his chin at the coat, and you quickly patted down the pockets, not really surprised to find the thick leather sheath of an extra hunting knife stashed within. 

The cold blued blade brought you a little comfort, but you still stayed low instead of standing to face the unknown, not wanting to get in Arthur’s line of fire.

You both waited in the silence, your nerves rising with every little noise while Arthur’s shoulders stayed loose and calm, and distantly you wondered at all the ‘weird stuff’ he had seen, that whispers in the woods barely fazed him.

Whispered sigh and a hiccuped sob, definitely a feminine sound, came from the direction Arthur was facing.

The blood drained from your face when no one stepped out from the trees, and even Arthur took two steps back, moving closer to where you were now crouched with the knife unsheathed. 

Seconds, then minutes passed, and you let out a little breath, hands readjusting their clammy grip on the knife.The dirt scuffed under Arthur’s boots as he turned slowly to check their surroundings, eyes flickering in the firelight.

Without warning the whisper sounded again, soft sighs changing to clear words just beyond the edge of the campfire light. 

“What’s that terrible noise?”

Arthur let out a surprised grunt, and you flew to your feet, coming up to stand beside him.He threw out an arm and corralled you further behind him, as if he could offer a barrier. 

The other whisper had you both spinning in place, Arthur’s hand keeping you from spilling in the dirt when the heavy coat tripped you up.

“Must be a sick calf, lookin for its momma,” the male answer slowly moved around you, as if the speaker was circling the campsite.“They’ve been known to bawl like that.” The southern drawl, loose and liquid on vowels and long on the end of words, dissipated into laughter that got closer to where you stood, kicking up a breeze that blew in your face.

You were pressed against Arthur now, the knife held out threateningly in front of you as if to ward off an attack.Arthur suddenly scoffed, limbs shaking out like a bull swatting flies before he shoved you behind him again, angrily taking a step forward.

“Whoever that is, you got three seconds to come out.” To be fair, that deadly rumbled crack of anger in his voice would have sent anyone sane scurrying away, not stepping out into the light.All it served, however, was a honed location for the whispers to converge.

The next words came from directly in front of Arthur, and you tugged on the back of his shirt, trying vainly to back him away from the sinister sound. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” the feminine whisper sounded fondly irritated at the two of you, but the male whisper only laughed again, this time from behind where you stood, causing you to quickly step forward into Arthur. 

He started as your face mashed against his shoulder blades, and you felt the material dampen slightly under your lips as you breathed out harshly, certain at any moment spectral hands would reach out and grab you. 

“I need to get back home.” There was the woman again, sounding close to tears, right in your ear.You made an aborted strangled noise of pure fear, clamping onto Arthur with a death grip that had him cursing.

His gun raised abruptly, and you peered under his arm, mouth going dry.There was a shadow at the edge of the light, just barely swaying behind a tree. 

“I need to get back home,” you tore your eyes from the shadow, watching as the firelight flickered, the flames leaping for one second and then sputtering out, leaving you both to the gloom of the forest.

“Arthur,” your whisper was soft, a bare thread of sound, but he still heard, his free hand coming around to grab your arm, solid and warm.

“please, help me.” When you looked again, the shadow was gone, and the fire crackled into life once more.The warm light seemed to spring at the shadows, driving their long trendies back into the forest to wait for the next unwary travelers.

Arthur waited a moment, then holstered his revolver, long legs quickly moving to the horses to calm them both.He stomped on the stake to drive it back into the ground, and only then turned to look at you, eyes wide.

It almost looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped several times.Finally, you opened your arms, a poor parody of the comfort he had offered earlier in the night.

He took it though, curled up behind you again, shuffled forward until there was no space between you.You shivered at the cold still clinging to his clothes, but turned halfway and forced your head into the dip of his collarbone, uncaring that it was too forward for someone you barely knew.

“I hate this goddamn forest,” was all he said.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!  
(stuffs face full of candy)


End file.
